


Soul of a Killer

by owlmoose



Category: Ace Attorney
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maya’s kidnapper goes back on his word, even after Phoenix wins him a full acquittal. Phoenix does not take it well. An alternate, much darker outcome to "Farewell My Turnabout". Spoilers through the end of "Justice for All".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul of a Killer

"That bastard! That utter bastard!" Phoenix sank into his desk chair, face dropping into his hands as his elbows hit the desk. "How could— how could he—" The words vanished, locked away by his closing throat, and he closed his eyes against the tears, again. They slipped down his cheek, but they couldn’t wash the image away, of Maya— of Maya’s—

"I did it," he whispered, blinking through the haze at Edgeworth, the only other person in the room. Gumshoe was already at the crime scene, scouring it for evidence. Upon hearing the news, Mia had vanished, and then Pearl… they’d had to sedate Pearl. She was sleeping now, curled up on a cot in the back room. Phoenix wished he could join her in oblivion, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t deserve escape. "I did everything he asked. I helped a guilty man go free. I sent an innocent woman to jail in his place. But it was all for nothing!" He banged his hand on his desk, so hard the phone jumped out of its cradle. "Nothing."

Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, Edgeworth shook his head. “It’s not your fault.” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “You couldn’t have known that Engarde would order De Killer to murder Maya even after his acquittal.”

Phoenix shook his head. “Couldn’t I? You didn’t see him in that detention center. You didn’t hear his evil laugh, or see the look in his eyes. Even if Matt Engarde never wields a knife or shoots a gun, he still has the soul of a killer.” He closed his eyes again and laid his head on his desk. “I should have listened to Maya, and seen that justice was done.”

Silence fell for a moment, the only sound the beeping of the phone still off its the hook. Then Phoenix heard footsteps followed by the soft click of the phone hanging up, and a strong hand fell on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nick.” Nick? How many years ago had Edgeworth last called him Nick? It startled Phoenix enough that he looked up, into Edgeworth’s concerned face. Edgeworth patted his arm, the touch awkward but still welcome. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save her.”

"I know," Phoenix murmured. "I know you did everything you could to find her and to stall the trial proceedings. Thanks for trying."

Edgeworth headed for the door. “At least I expect we’ll have enough evidence to charge Engarde with kidnapping. And, I hope, murder.” He paused, hand resting on the doorknob, and looked at Phoenix again. “We will put him away, Nick. I promise you. This time, Matt Engarde will face true justice.”

Phoenix looked away. “Too late for Maya." Or Juan Corrida, or Adrian Andrews. Just how many people had he failed today?

"It’s not truly adequate," Edgeworth agreed. "But it’s the best I can do. I wish it were more."

"It’s— it’s okay." He lifted his eyes and considered Edgeworth — once his rival, maybe now the best friend he had left. "Thanks, Miles."

Edgeworth started, and then he nodded. “Call me if you need anything.” He opened the door and walked through, leaving Phoenix totally alone in his office.

Phoenix pushed himself back from his desk, staring at the phone. He would have to call Kurain Village soon, he knew — tell them what happened, arrange for someone to come get Pearl. Poor Pearls. He glanced at the door to the back room, but it was still silent within. Part of him wanted to throw himself onto the sofa and scream, but he was afraid of waking Pearl with the noise. Instead, he sunk further down into his chair. His eyes fell on the radio transceiver that De Killer had used to communicate with him during the trial. Would it work both ways? “True justice,” Edgeworth had said. But Engarde had always escaped justice before. Did Phoenix dare to solve this problem in a new way?

As if in a dream, his hand drifted forward, then closed around the transceiver. It was heavy in his hand, like a rock. Or a loaded gun. He lifted it to his mouth and pressed the talk button. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

After an age, the transceiver buzzed. “Good evening, Mr. Wright.”

A hot rage rose up in the back of his throat. “Don’t you ‘good evening’ me, you cold-blooded, murdering, son of a— you— you—” Phoenix sputtered, tripped up by his sudden fury. This man had killed Maya. What was he even doing?

"Now, now, Mr. Wright." De Killer chuckled beneath the crackle of static. "You know I’m little more than a weapon in the hands of my clients. It was nothing personal, toward you or Ms. Fey."

"I— I know. That’s— why I’m calling." Phoenix took a few deep breaths and steeled himself to continue. "I’m wondering how I might go about arranging for your services."

"Ah. I thought that might be the case."

Phoenix pulled back from the radio and stared at it for a second. “You did?”

De Killer chuckled again. “You’d be surprised, Mr. Wright, how often a target becomes a client, and vice-versa. Now, I don’t think we need to discuss whom you’d like me to kill. I’m assuming, courtroom chatter aside, that it’s not the judge.”

"No." Phoenix shook his head. "It’s who you think it is. But— don’t you have a conflict of interest?"

He could almost hear De Killer’s shrug. “Why should I? Once the job was done, we went our separate ways. The same is true of all my clients. Now. About the matter of arranging a meeting—”

"Nick?" The voice, so unexpected, caused Phoenix to drop the transceiver. It clattered on the desk, hitting the talk button to hang up the call. "Nick, what are you doing??!"

He looked up, his hand covering his mouth from its own volition. “Ma— Maya?!!”

It was her — in Pearl’s pink and gray channeling garb, with Pearl’s little girl braids piled atop her head, but it was Maya nonetheless: her face, her voice, her wide eyes. Phoenix could only stare, and then the truth hit him. “Pearls is channeling you. So that means… you’re gone. For real.” It wasn’t a bad dream, or a terrible mistake. Maya was really, truly dead.

"Yeah." She ducked her head a little. "Sorry. But you haven’t answered my question. What do you think you’re doing?"

Phoenix gestured at the radio. “What do you think I’m doing?”

She shook her head wildly. “You can’t do this, Nick. This isn’t you!”

"Isn’t it?" He laughed, the sound harsh in his throat. "I’ve already destroyed everything else I thought I believed in: truth, justice, the law. What’s one more thing?"

"Everything!" She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, hard. "You’re not a killer. And you aren’t going to become one. Not for my sake."

"For your sake," he repeated, softly. He brushed a knuckle across her rounded, rosy cheek. "Maya. For your sake, I defended a guilty man, and I pulled every dirty trick in the book to see him acquitted: I delayed the trial, threw suspicion on an innocent woman, manipulated the judge into giving a false verdict. All to save you. And then— it didn’t even work!"

Maya tipped her head sideways and grinned at him, hands on her hips; it was such a perfectly Maya look that Phoenix’s breath caught. “Well, I did tell you not to do it.” She raised her eyebrows. “Unless you’re going to claim that you never found my note.”

"No, I did, but…" Phoenix turned away, and he drew back, resting his hand on the quiet transceiver. "I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let you die." His hand tightened on the radio as he spoke. "But you— Engarde… he killed you anyway, and I— I can’t let him get away with it. I can’t! The law failed me, and it failed you." His voice broke, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "I can’t fail you again!"

Maya leaned forward over the desk to rest her narrow hands on his shoulders; he looked up into her face and blinked back his tears. “Please, Nick. Please don’t do this. Trust the system. Trust Detective Gumshoe and Mr. Edgeworth. Trust _yourself_. You don’t have to kill Matt Engarde and put the stain of his death on your soul. For my sake, if not your own. Please.”

Phoenix felt his face crumble. “M— Maya, I—”

She closed her eyes and touched her forehead to his. Then he jumped out of his chair and almost leaped over the desk in his haste to pull her into his arms; he hugged her to him, crying into her hair. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Her hands closed around his back, and she held him tight. “It’s okay, Nick. I forgive you. But only if you forgive yourself. And you’d better not change your mind about Engarde. I’ll come back and haunt you if you do.”

Phoenix let out a strangled laugh. He heard Maya sniffle, and she pressed her face against his chest. “Goodbye, Nick. I’ll see you again.” And then her body shifted and she was Pearl again, still clinging to him, tears still on her face. When she spoke, her voice was raw and thin. “Mr.— Mr. Nick? Was that… Mystic Maya?”

"Yeah." Phoenix hugged her close. "She came to say goodbye." _And to talk me out of making a terrible mistake._ He reached over to the transceiver and switched it off. He’d give it to the police later — maybe they could use it to track down de Killer, even to link him to Engarde. Then he returned his attention to Pearl. “I’m so sorry, Pearls.”

"Me too," she whispered. Phoenix lifted her up and carried her to the couch, where they sat together, quiet in their shared grief.


End file.
